With my first Mother’s Day coming up, I wasn’t sure what to expect. After some stuff unexpectedly broke on my car – the kind of stuff that has to be fixed, lest you take up a new hobby of hitch hiking with your infant son in tow – we weren’t making any huge plans. I don’t know if I can say it was all that “unexpected” either, since we all know the minute you pay the note on that P.O.S., everything under the hood withers into a pile of dust and goo (like the guy from Raiders of the Lost Ark, after they popped the top). Hey, I just made an Indiana Jones reference! My hubby will be so proud…
I knew not to expect a lot for Mother’s Day, let’s just get that out right now. Last time I checked, Trent Reznor was actually tossing rocks into our checking account to produce a sound for one of his big movie scores (“Hey Atticus, do you think this clip on track 8 is nailing that ‘post-apocalyptic, void sort of feeling?“). In fact, all I really wanted for Mother’s Day (MD) was for this jerk in China who we unwittingly bought an Ergo Baby Carrier from on Ebay (FOUR WEEKS AGO) to finally send the friggin’ thing. Yeah, next time you think you’re bidding on an item from a seller in “Mobile, AL,” just remember…he may not have done well in elementary level geography.
So today, when Jonathan said he was going to buy me a MD gift, I wasn’t sure what to expect. I’m not a materialistic person, but I am one of those people who is always like “$*#@&! this thing doesn’t work! You know what I need? A better one!” What can I say, the apple doesn’t fall far from my dad. So, whatever he was getting, I didn’t really have a clue – could’ve been mixing bowls, could’ve been a gift card. Folks, I am not that sneaky Cosmopolitan reader who “leaves out” the ad page for the engagement ring she likes. No, sir. I am the girl whose fiance knew to just bring her to the mall and have her try on stuff before “surprising” her with his own version of exactly that which she tried on and liked best in the store. My man knows what’s up. You could say I’m a hint dropper if it weren’t for the fact that that might require some level of restraint.
But honestly, like I said, we’re Ramen-Noodles-Broke, so what I really halfway expected was a stack of 3×5 cards filled out to look like “coupons” for “favors” like “Washing the dog” or “Sweeping the kitchen floor.” Who came up with that idea, people? The only people who can get by with that should be kids under age 10. Even then, if you’re doing your job as a parent right, your kid should be performing almost all those tasks, on somewhat of a regular basis, just as their penance for furthering your astronomical grocery bill.
“Billy, you need to clean your room.”
“Mom, do you have a coupon for that?”
“No, but I’m the manager here and guess what’s on sale this week?”
While Jonathan was at work and then out on his lunch hour getting this secret present, I was having…let’s just say, not my favorite day ever. Aside from a great lunch with two friends from church and their ridiculously adorable daughter, nothing seemed to be going right for me today. It started before I even got coffee brewing this morning, when I let Rocky in and she tracked a trail of dark, dirty dog prints all over the light beige carpet in our living room. I mean, for reals, it looked like a bunch of leprechauns went on a mud run and the post race party was at my house. Ridiculous. I used half a bottle of Resolve and quite a bit of elbow grease fixing that one.
Russ is engrossed in teething, so it’s been an all-day endeavor just to keep the poor thing placated. He’s been pretty clingy and doesn’t want to be more than two feet away from me. He also has a reach like Michael Phelps already, so you can’t put anything breakable or edible or – okay, you can’t put anything, period, within about 27 feet of him or he reaches over and grab it. It’s completely insane. He practically tried to pick up the salad bowl at Olive Garden with my church friends and wear it as a hat. For crying out loud, kid. Take a nap.
But there were no naps to be had, even as I drove home from lunch, fishing for my cell phone before realizing that I’d left my purse in the car earlier…with one of those chocolate mints from OG in the front pocket…right beside my phone…in 70+ degree, bright, sunshiny weather. Let’s just say my phone smells absolutely delicious. Now if only I could get those last few smushed, melted bits of mint chocolate out of the ear piece.
By the time Jonathan got home from work, I really didn’t care what else happened today as long as he would help me by holding the baby. It was also around this time that I realized I hadn’t peed in about nine hours. AND that my underwear has been on inside out. All day. Jonathan could see the dejection and defeat spreading across my face.
“I think you need your Mother’s Day surprise early,” he said.
With that, he reached into his computer bag and pulled out the book I’ve been wanting for weeks now – “Bossypants,” by Tina Fey! Yayness!!
“Oh, you have to read the inside cover,” he said. I honestly had no idea why he’d write on the inside cover of the thing, since that makes it hardly marketable on Half.com later, but I glanced inside to see what it said.
Happy Mother’s Day! I can’t write just yet (seeing as I’m only seven months old), so I asked Daddy to help. I wanted to write this extra special note to you since this is an extra special Mother’s Day – your first!
Thank you for being my mommy. Thank you for growing me in your tummy…it was a pretty cool place to hang out, but now that I’m out here with you guys, I think I like this better – especially because I get to spend every day with you.
I know sometimes I can be hard to get along with. I know that it’s tough when I spit my food all over the place and chew on electrical cords and shout at the top of my lungs. I know waking up in the middle of the night or changing poopy diapers or listening to me cry can be a pain. But it’s all okay, because once a year you get presents and Mother’s Day and that makes it all better, right?
I picked out this book all by myself (Daddy helped a little, but not that much) to show you just how much I love you.
I love you, Mommy!
Screw Mother’s Day. I’ll take today, any day. Even the chocolate under my fingernails (or is that poop? *sniffs*).